Gakuen Hetalia Drabbles
by lakdjf
Summary: Drabbles set in Gakuen Hetalia with words less than 500. Includes OCs and canon characters. May be dumb as drabbles are of spur of the moment.
1. Clovers

**Clovers**

**- All Disclaimers Implied -**

Gabriel smiled softly, but the spark didn't quite reach his eyes. It almost never did these days. Arthur stood in front of him, a soft scowl on his face. The scowl really didn't mean anything; he usually had it these days. They stood in the back of the school building, under the cherry blossom tree. He remembered this tree when they first confessed, their everyday 'usual place.'

"It's already over, isn't it?" he asked softly. Arthur looked away.

"Not _over_, just…will you wait until I come back?"

Arthur's the type to remember everything. He's always chasing after his unreachable dreams no matter where they might take him. He's pretty amazing, Gabriel realized in that moment. He has the courage most people don't.

He smiled brighter this time, and the spark reached his eyes. "Of course I will. I'll be right here waiting for you."

So as he watches the airplane fly over his head, he wonders if Arthur is looking down, looking at the cherry blossom tree that means so much to them. He wonders if he can see him, even as a tiny dark dot in a field of pink and green. He holds the four-leaf clover Arthur had picked for him and he kisses the back of his hand.

In his mind, he thanks Arthur for the wonderful memories that don't make him feel lonely, even if Arthur may never come back. He thanks him for all the good times and the sad times, the love he's shown him, the precious _everything._

And one day, he comes back to the field. It's a good five years later; years filled with little flings that didn't mean a thing, long-lasting friendship, hard work, and wistful thinking. There's a small patch of green in the grass by the old cherry blossom tree. It's a patch of clovers. He smiles gently and the spark reaches his eyes because these years, it almost always did.

The tree's looking grand, just like it always had and the sun is shining down. It's spring and so the petals are falling with the wind, blowing away and drifting to a place only the Lord would know. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" he asks with a soft voice.

"Yes, it has," another voice answers. He breaks out into a grin and takes the hand. He can feel the four-leaf clover in their intertwined hands and he leans against Arthur. It's been a while.

He thanks the four-leaf clovers.


	2. Forgive

**Forgive (Te Amo, Idiota)**

**- All disclaimers implied, lemon implied, angst, and comfort. -**

The phone rang, but I ignored it. I already knew it was you. Why would I pick it up, after what you did, today?

"_Hey, you've reached the refrigerator of Juan's. His phone's currently lava-surfing, that bastard, so just leave a message, if it's worthy, I'll pass it on. If not, then…ha, good luck." _–beep-

"Juan…Please pick up your phone. C'mon, what did I do wrong? Tell me, please! Why are you avoiding me?"

You asked those questions the first fifteen times, _idiota_. What makes you think I'm going to tell you now? And you damn well know what you did, don't pretend. Bastard, I can't believe…

"Juan, please…just c'mon. I love you, you know that, right? I…just talk to me, Juan…"

My stomach twisted unpleasantly, I felt sick. My chest hurt and ached, like a balloon had just popped, and _Dios_, it hurt so much, I nearly twitched and flinched. Why'd you say that, _idiota_? I _saw_ you, you know.

"Call back soon, please. I…you should…just do it, please, Juan."

Stupid _gringo_, I hate you, why should I listen to you? You're an _idiota_, a _cabron. _I _saw_ you, so stop acting so hurt, 'hero.'

The doorbell rang. "Oi, Juan, open up, will you?"

"It's open, _idiota_." I called out, grabbing a book and opened it to a random page. Venezuela came in, and noticed me on my bed. "What do you want?" I asked, not bothering to look at him as I read it. I've read this book a thousand times; where a girl gets heartbroken and gets comforted by her best friend, who gets bitten by a werewolf and loses all his memories.

He sat down on my bed, his weight shifting it. My eyes flitted to him, and he was watching me closely, with an indifferent expression on, though something else, something I can't identify, was seen in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you look so sad, _mi amor_?"

I frowned. "Don't call me that," I grumbled, going back to my book. I felt his hands and knees press down on the mattress on either side of my head. I looked up from my book again and looked into his eyes. He was directly above me now, and I felt a pang in my chest, and my stomach felt tingly, but pleasantly. "W-what are you doing, _cabron_!"

He leaned in close and the book dropped out of my hands and onto the floor. I gripped his shoulders, trying to prevent him from coming closer, and my eyes wide. He sighed. "I don't get you, Juan. Why do you like America more than the rest of us? Don't you know, Juan…?"

My grip loosened, and he took the opportunity to come in closer. I automatically tried to sink back into the mattress but he growled softly and leaned in closer even more. "_Te amo, idiota_," My breath hitched in my throat and he softly pressed his lips against mine's. I was shocked and frozen for a moment before I hesitantly kissed back, which he responded to eagerly.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his kisses spread, and our actions ecalated, and _you know what, Alfred?_

It felt _better _with him than you; I didn't feel _bad_ or like I was _cheating _at all. And maybe that's what you felt, when you were doing what you did. Was it? And _maybe_, just _maybe _I could forgive you, because really, we were falling apart, weren't we?

But you know what?

I'll _never_ forgive you for how you handled it.


	3. Happy Valentine's Day

**Happy Valentine's Day**

**- All disclaimers implied -**

Mexico pursed his lips and held out the flowers, blushing slightly. Venezuela grinned happily, taking them and sweeping him into his arms and kissing him full on the lips. Mexico's blush got even redder, but he didn't fight back, which Venezuela counted as a small victory in itself.

Australia blushed as America openly groped his ass, hitting him lightly in the chest. America just laughed and kissed (bit) his throat and just pulled him closer. He blushed harder and pressed his face into America's collarbone, who laughed again and kissed his head.

Romania found himself being pulled into France's lap with a startled gasp. He tried to elbow him, but all France did was laugh. He gently turned Romania's head towards him and distracted him by catching him in a deep, passionate kiss. Damnit, even that bloody pervert got someone!

England stared at all the happy couples around him. Ireland was with Czech, North was with Slovakia, Wales was with New Zealand…

And what did he have?

A large bouquet of English roses, lavenders, and red carnations, and a box of chocolates that were _supposed_ to be given to Portugal, but he had gotten so _nervous_…

"Arthur?" He turned around and saw Portugal, whose eyes immediately were drawn to the items in his hands. Was it just him, or did his eyes got a bit more…sad and down cast? He must have imagined it, for as quickly as it came, it went. "Looks like you got yourself a Valentine's already, huh? If you don't mind me asking…who is it?"

England's eyebrows lifted, his eyes widening. "Oh, you think-these are-no, Port-I-_they'reforyou_," and with that, he pushed the items into Portugal's arms, blushing hard and eyes clenched tight. Portugal's eyes widened in surprise and his own face redden as well.

"Ah, _obrigada_, Arthur," he quietly muttered, staring the flowers and chocolates in surprise. "Do…do you want to share some?" he asked, holding up the box of chocolates.

The Briton glanced up, his face still red. "Y-yeah, sure…" As it turned out, it wasn't much _chocolate_ eating, they ended up doing anyways.

And as England laid in Portugal's bed later, the Iberian nation nestled in his arms, he thought how wonderful this whole 'Valentine's Day' thing turned out.

Maybe he'd give it another shot next year as well.


	4. Holiday

**Holiday**

**-All Disclaimers Implied-**

Venezuela was spaced out again, staring out into the sunset from his set on a school building's ceiling. He tensed momentarily when he felt arms wrap around his shoulders but relaxed as he recognized the familiar touch. "What're you doing?" Costa Rica asked, his soft voice right in his ear. The boy was always the touchy sort; they were all used to it by now.

"You need to eat more or something," Venezuela told him off-handedly as he settled next to him. Costa Rica pursed his lips.

"Everyone is wondering where you are, you know?" Costa Rica mentioned. "Why'd you leave the party anyways?"

"…nothing, don't worry about it," Venezuela told him, still staring out into the sun. "Why aren't you at the party?"

"I've been sent to get you," Costa Rica replied, a happy and oblivious smile on his face. He swung his legs over the edge, and Venezuela had to resist the basic urge to pull him back. "Come on, it's the holidays! Where's your spirit?" Costa Rica pouted, and with the sun shining on him, he reminded Venezuela of an angel.

It was the sixth day of Christmas and Costa Rica had been invited to the twelve day Christmas party by Venezuela's cousin, Colombia, who knew him. Maybe it was foolish, but Venezuela already knew he was falling for him.

They basically had twelve days to fall in love, didn't they?

"Hey, Costa Rica," Venezuela mumbled, moving closer. He blinked and muttered a _yeah_? Venezuela cupped his cheek gently and Costa Rica's eyes fluttered close as he leaned in and pressed their lips together.

They knew they'd have only so long together. But as Venezuela trailed all the curves of Costa Rica's body, he found that he didn't care, as long as they were together.

Who knew a Costa Rican body could be so _amazingly fine_?

"Your lips are so soft," he muttered, trailing the said body parts. Costa Rica blushed and pressed his legs together tightly, causing Venezuela to grin and gripped each one in a hand. "So cute," he mumbled as he pulled them both onto the bed again.


	5. The Usage of Thongs

**The Usage of Thongs**

**- All Disclaimers Implied -**

"It was cool seeing you in your _thongs_, Jack," Lucas snickered, smothering his hand in the aforementioned boy's hair. He pouted and batted his hands away. Erik snapped his head up at the sentence and glared at the Dutch boy as Lucas walked away, his head thrown back laughing.

"What does he mean; _it was cool seeing you in your thongs_?" Erik asked, gripping Jack by the forearms. The Australian pursed his lips and shrugged out of the Dane's grip. "Jack!" he whined. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Erik, seriously, you've seen me in my thongs before too!" Jack exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"W-what!" His eyes widened. "W-when did-wha-what are you-_what_?" he stuttered.

"Yeah, remember? On the beach?" the Australian prompted. Erik stared at him and he sighed. "What's the American term again? Let's see…oh yes, _slippers_, Erik, _slippers_."

The Dane stared before breathing a sigh of relief. He took Jack into his arms. "Jeez Jack, if you're going to use Australian terminology, then make sure I understand it!"

Jack flushed as Erik pressed their lips together, licking his lips a bit. They pulled away, a silver string of saliva connecting their lips. "You know…if you want to…to you know…see me in an _actual_ thong…" he trailed off, flushing harder and shifting his eyes to the side.

Erik let out a small, breathy chuckle in the Australian's ear. "You know what? I think I'd like that."


End file.
